


Blue Hour

by midwest_cowboy



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: ACAB, Adult Bella Swan, Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BLM, Bisexual Female Character, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, College, Emmett is a himbo, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, LGBTQ, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, No Love Triangle, Nobody Dies, Pining, Plot changes, Prom, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Timeline changes, Unrequited Love, Vampires, also they're seniors, bella goes to college, bella has a personality, charlie is a forest ranger, charlie isn't a cop, dick stabbing, jasper is trans, make it gay, rosalie and emmett were never a couple, rosalie has a personality, rosalie is funny, rosalie is plus sized, studying abroad, table saw, what would 2020 twilight look like
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26021248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwest_cowboy/pseuds/midwest_cowboy
Summary: I wanted her to ask me for the world. I wanted her to crave me. I wanted to be completely consumed by her.This is written out of spite, and necessity. When my library app told me it would be a 12 week wait for Midnight Sun, I did a little soul searching. Am I excited to read Midnight Sun? Well, yes. Do I think it will be good? No, I expect not. I looked inward to imagine what would make Midnight Sun (only about a three week wait, now) better; and thus I present to you, dear reader, Blue Hour. It won’t be perfect but it’ll be honest work, and I thank you for joining me on this little adventure. Rock on, twihards.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Rosalie Hale/Bella Swan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 100





	1. We Do Not Suffer By Accident

_When I imagined myself dying, it didn’t look like this. I pictured IV bags and the faint din of nurses in the hallway. My hand, held softly next to me, showed signs of a full life. Spots and wrinkles and scars I’d be too tired to care about anymore. There would be flowers on my bedside, and a book left open, chiding me with its unknown end. I would fall asleep. It would be quiet and maybe the only graceful event in my life._

_I couldn’t have imagined this much screaming, this much blood._

_So, so much blood._


	2. The Distance Is Nothing When One Has A Motive

I watched the sunset from my aisle seat. from gold to peach to a triumphant crimson, the sun slipped away one last time. I tried to memorize the way the disappearing sun made the clouds around the plane ignite with gold, how fiery the horizon below became.

The young girl sitting with her back against the window gave me a quick, dismissive look before returning to her game. I ignored her, savoring the gentle warmth on my face.

Somewhere over Nevada, I said goodbye to the sun.

•••

It was dark by the time we landed in Seattle. The mom next to me had everything packed up twenty minutes before we landed. I was happy I’d traveled light, I got out of their way quick enough. None of my Arizona clothes would be practical for the cold, damp, pacific northwest, and most everything had been brought to goodwill. Renee had insisted on keeping some “essentials” for if, or when, I joined her and Phil in Jacksonville. It wasn’t likely, but I didn’t want to hurt her feelings more than I had just by leaving.

I knew I’d be moving to forks as soon as Phil told us about the job opportunity in Florida; it just made sense. Mom didn’t get it, and probably still doesn’t. Forks was the last place she’d ever move voluntarily, and I didn’t blame her. Forks was quiet and small and nothing like her. My friends sent me off with letters, the mental preparation of leaving already in the works with graduation coming only this spring. Noah took the news easier, but we’d only been dating for a couple of months. I was grateful for that, at least. we promised to keep in touch and wished each other well going into college.

Charlie was waiting for me outside my terminal, his scuffed up ranger truck parked nearby. he looked the same, scruffy hair and an un-fussy mustache.

“Hey Bells,” Charlie said, swinging an arm out for a half hug. I leaned in, both of us stepping away shortly after. It had been three years since my last trip to forks, but not much had changed. My hair was a little shorter, his a little longer. Both of us show our love quietly. Charlie grabbed my suitcase and swung it unto the backseat, pushing aside a shovel and a bag of flags.

“I got you a tea, I wasn’t sure if you’d want caffeine this late, the lady said it was popular.” I tucked my backpack between my feet and buckled up, picking up the warm cup. It smelled like cinnamon and cloves.

“This is perfect, thanks Charlie.” it was warm and comforting, and surprisingly exactly what I needed.

Charlie pressed his lips in acknowledgment and nodded, pulling out of the queue and back onto the road. I used to spend every summer up here, but the past few years there was camp, and then an internship at the museum, and then mom’s wedding until all of a sudden it was five years since I was last here. I watched the headlights flash across reflective arrows and around short bends in the road, the dense greenery meeting the road like a wall. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the engine as it wove its way home.

•••

I woke up to the sound of car doors shutting and the crunch of gravel. It was morning, and the thin sunlight cast a green hue through the trees and into my room. The slanted ceilings caught the light at angles, making the grey walls deepen; cave-like, despite the windows. The room had grown up with me, despite my time away. The tall bookshelf now held Austen, Woolf, and Saunders above old Nancy Drew’s, the only childhood books I couldn’t part with. String lights framed the room, and my old desk sat nestled under the window, beautiful in its simplicity.

The crunch of the gravel grew closer to the house, pulling me back. I pulled a pair of jeans out of my suitcase on my way to the front window. Charlie was standing just past our front steps, his hand resting on the hood of a truck. I recognized Billy and Jacob coming around the truck, and turned to run downstairs.

I hadn’t seen Jake or his dad in almost four years, and I was surprised at how much they had both changed.

Billy was in a wheelchair after an accident a couple of years ago. Charlie had called to let me know about it when it happened. Billy had been on a fishing trip and had gotten caught up with a bear, or something like that. I made a quick mental note to stay out of the woods.

Jake grinned up at me as soon as I opened the door, darting past our dads to catch me in a massive hug. Since I’d last seen him, Jake had grown from a gangly preteen to now standing a good foot taller than me. I pulled away slightly to marvel at his height.

“So what do you think, Bells?” Charlie asked, giving the hood of the car a slap for emphasis.

“I think Jake should’ve stopped growing about five inches ago.” I said as I stood back, earning a laugh from Billy. I smiled back, appreciating how easy it was to be around them again. Jake gave me a light push.

“Better watch it Bella, he’s got a _short_ temper,” Billy said with a wry smile, watching his son roll his eyes. “But I think your dad meant the truck I just sold him.”

I turned to really get a good look. It was small for a pickup truck, poppy red exterior and caramel leather seats, worn soft with use.

“Charlie, you didn’t.” I looked at my dad, grinning at me.

“Welcome home, kiddo. Thought you could use some wheels, plus Billy practically begged me to take it off his hands.”

Billy slapped his thigh,

“Not like I have much use for her now.” he said warmly.

Jake ran around the front to the passenger side, tossing me the keys.

“Come check her out Bella!”

I thanked Billy and Charlie before hopping in the driver’s seat. The bench that served as both seats was broken in, the leather almost like velvet with age. It smelled of cedar and leather oil. I loved it.

“She’s a ‘76 Chevy LUV, I helped my dad fix her up a few years back. The transition from third to fourth gear is a little janky but other than that she’s good as new.” Jake gave the dashboard a loving pat.

“Third to fourth, got it.” I grinned at him. The last time I’d seen him he was running up and down trees in his backyard, building us a makeshift treehouse out of a few two by fours we’d found in the garage, and now he was fixing up cars. While our dads chatted outside, he promised to show me the car he was working on now.

I was glad to slip back into our friendship as though no time had passed. The thought of starting school halfway through the semester was daunting, and since Jake went to the Quileute school, I’d be going in knowing no one.


	3. I Was In The Middle Before I Knew That I Had Begun

As far as first days go, this one wasn’t the worst. Only one teacher made me give a formal introduction to the class, and a friend group had seemed to adopt me. Angela, class president, head of the Forks High School Newspaper, and gracious introvert, helped me figure out where all my classes for the week were. I had Calc 2 with Erik, who ran the yearbook and knew about any and all extracurriculars I might need for college applications. Mike and Jessica were on my team in gym, though I was about as helpful a teammate as a water cooler. By the time the bell for lunch rang, I was socially exhausted but thankful to have a group of familiar faces to sit with.

Forks High School was small enough that the lunchroom wasn’t split into cliques, as my school in Phoenix had been. Rather, it followed a more natural and amorphous blend of friend groups and study sessions. The group I found myself in would have been hard to categorize, which reassured me. Despite everyone knowing everyone and everyone’s grandma, there was a sense of general welcome, and I was officially “in”. Maybe I could blend in here, just a little.

The doors to the lunchroom opened. Even if I hadn’t been facing the door, some primal instinct would have screamed at me to pay attention. I was vaguely aware of Jessica talking to me, though I couldn’t have paid attention to her if I tried. She turned to see what had caught my attention when I didn’t respond.

“Oh, yeah,” she said with a sigh, following my line of sign. Whether it was envy, insight, or deep appreciation in her voice, I couldn’t be sure. We watched together as five otherworldly figures practically floated into the room.

“Who are they?” I asked as quietly as I could. God, why couldn’t I take my eyes away? They all but glowed as they maneuvered the crowded lunchroom with grace that would make royalty envious. Jessica leaned in and pointed delicately.

“Okay, _so._ Those are the Cullens. They moved here, like, what, three years ago? Two?” She turned to Angela, who was arguing with Erik over the yearbook committee.“I’m pretty sure it was two. Anyways, they’re all adopted and their dad, Dr. Cullen was this hotshot doctor in Alaska before he got this job here as chief of medicine or something. But! Ok the actually bonkers thing,” she pointed to the two walking in front. “Alice and Jasper, the girl who looks like some kind of elf and the Kurt Cobain wannabe — those two are _dating.”_ As if on cue, they held hands as they slid into the lunch line. They had almost matching haircuts, parted down the middle and cropped just below the ear, hers dark brunette and his more honey-colored.

“ _Yeah.”_ Jessica eyed me, watching me register this information. “I guess they were already a thing when they were fosters or something, but still.” Her eyes widened as her eyebrows raised, disapproval clearly crossing her face.

Behind them in line was a boy I could only describe as being mammoth-like. His shoulders were the size of three of me, his dark hair buzzed short. He had a lopsided grin, though it wasn’t obvious what he’d be laughing at. “Right, so that’s Emmett. He and blondie are twins I’m pretty sure, and he’s like stupid sweet. He’s in my homeroom.” Jessica nodded as she spoke, as though she were reciting off of note cards. I watched him pick a clementine up out of the fruit dish and couldn’t help but think of a golden retriever gently carrying an egg in its mouth.

At this point, Jessica was obviously getting flustered. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, brushing her hair behind her shoulder as she leaned in closer.

“That,” she started, winding up for the thesis of her presentation, “is Edward Cullen. He’s completely mysterious and brooding and so-” I stared past the boy with floppy hair to the girl standing behind him.

If there was a way to tap your foot while standing completely still, she had it mastered.

She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, though it looked like they were tailored perfectly. Black wide-leg jeans stretched straight until they curved up around her broad hips, her white shirt tucked effortlessly. A simple gold necklace rested against her chest, drawing my eye back up to her godlike face. Jesus, she looked like a marble statue. Her wavy blond hair was pulled into a low pony, leaving nothing to obscure her flawless oval face. Her wide, full lips were pulled into a faint pout, her perfect eyebrows knit together. Her skin had a dewy glow that was impervious to the fluorescent lights.

I realized Jessica was still talking about the boy in front of her and interrupted hastily.

“What did you say her name was?” I couldn’t take my eyes away.

“Oh! Um, Rosalie Hale. Yeah, she’s Edward’s half sister. She’s like so mean though, this one time —”

I whispered to myself,

“ _Rosalie Hale._ ”

Rosalie’s eyes flashed to meet mine. Her amber eyes burned with scalding indifference and something venomous. I felt a flush rise from my neck into my cheeks, my heart beating like a storm trapped against my ribs. My breath froze in my throat. I could feel in my wrists and knees, _that girl is dangerous._ She looked away before I could even think to be embarrassed.

She continued through the line, only grabbing a juice before joining her family at an empty table across the room. They were otherworldly in their collective beauty. I stole a glance over to their table, just past where Mike was seated, doing last minute studying for a test this afternoon.

I watched as Rosalie delicately twisted the cap off her juice and spun it under one finger on the table, her movements fluid. Her knuckles dipped and arced as she effortlessly spun the cap. I followed the line of her arm up along strong shoulders, up through the soft curve of her neck, letting myself finally find her face again — I heard the crack of the cap as it shattered under her palm. Rosalie stared me down, contempt creeping towards me like a cold front.

Her siblings watched her departure with a strange, quiet alarm before returning to their conversations. Only about five minutes could have passed since they first entered the lunch room and my inexplicable, unpredictable fixation had pissed off a total stranger.

_Shit_.


	4. So Immovable A Dislike

‘Embarrassed’ couldn’t even begin to cover how I was feeling. Abashed, mortified, humiliated, maybe. While the rest of the table chatted about their weekend plans, I sat and replayed those five minutes over and over in my head.

_Why was I just staring at her? I hate being stared at. God, am I just the weird new girl who stares?_

_Maybe she had just gotten a bad grade on a test, maybe it wasn’t me at all. What would she even notice about me? I’m not especially, well, anything really._

_She probably left the room very normally for very unimportant reasons that had nothing to do with me, because I am a complete stranger and it’s bonkers for me to be making such a deal out of it._ _Starting at a new school halfway through the semester is stressful and I’m just now letting that stress sink in._ I decided to apologize the next time I saw her, just in case. This was not a big deal.

I focused my attention back to the group. The conversation had moved to everyone’s weekend plans, which sounded like it involved bodysuits. Angela was sitting to my other side, and I leaned in.

“What kind of bodysuits are we talking about?” I asked quietly. I didn’t want to alert the whole table that I hadn’t been paying attention. Angela laughed softly and leaned in to meet me.

“Think more wetsuit, Point Break kinda stuff.” Several shark-related, marooned-at-sea movies played on fast forward in my mind.

“Am I supposed to have one of those?” My eyes got big, my dustbowl brain scrambling.

“What, you’re not a desert surf god?” She asked, theatrically quizzical. “Ha, no, a normal swimsuit would be fine, but it’s gonna be cold as shit anyway. There are tide pools and caves I could show you though, you should definitely come.” I could tell she really meant it and agreed.

I spent the rest of lunch listening to the group as they jumped from topic to topic, how the group would split off, and come back together. They seemed to just accept me as a part of the group without question. No intense grilling or hazing, just hanging out. Erik and Mike had started debating who should play the next Bond, while Jessica countered their arguments.

I only stole one look over at Rosalie’s table before lunch ended. Her siblings all seated rigidly beautiful, speaking quietly to themselves. The beefy one turned and caught my eye, sending a goofy smile my way. I gave a panicked smile I hoped wasn’t too haunted-looking and ducked my head again.

~~~

According to my schedule, my afternoon elective was simply referred to as “Crew”. No one else in the group had “Crew”, though I suppose they’d all been able to pick their electives. We parted ways, Jessica pointing me in the direction of the classroom. While I still had a good fifteen minutes before the bell, I hoped to meet the teacher and get caught up on what exactly I’d be doing with the last two hours of the day.

I was surprised to find myself at the art room. Double-checking the room number, I stepped in and looked around for a teacher. Sheets of patterned fabric were tossed over bookshelves stuffed with bins, which overflowed with paper and mismatched tubs. The corkboard walls had drawings pinned up along them and a stack of paint-splattered stools were stacked in the corner. A group of students knelt on a large canvas drop cloth, painting what looked like a paper mache pillar. The room smelled of paint and wood and coffee.

Across the room I spotted a short woman dressed in all black, her hair pulled up into a golden scarf, gesturing with fervor to a table of students.

“—What is the _feeling_ we’re exploring here? We all know this period as neoclassicism,” Students were nodding, some taking notes while they listened. I found an open stool at the back of the table and put my bag down quietly behind me as I sat, listening. “Set pieces aren’t showstoppers — we want to create an experience. I want you to think about the details. I know we’re all creatives here,” she smiled warmly, making eye contact with a couple of people in the front, “What will enrich this experience for you and your peers? Don’t worry about replication, let emotion guide your ideation today. I’ll be coming around throughout the period to check-in and answer any questions..”

Students drifted to their workspaces as the woman finally addressed me. “You must be Isabella. I’m Ms. Sadou, but please call me Leslie” she said, pulling up a stool next to mine.

“Hi, thank you. I go by Bella, um, I was actually wondering what it is we do in this elective.” I gestured towards the half-painted pillars and plywood. “Is this all for a play?” Leslie laughed.

“You’re not far off, Bella. We’re working on the sets and decorations for this year’s prom. The student body has chosen _Pride and Prejudice_ as the theme this year.”

“Woah, all this for prom?” My class in Phoenix was ten times the size of Fork’s entire school, and they usually just put up some streamers and balloons for dances. I think last year’s theme was just _Stars_. Not being especially keen on dances I had never gone and was surprised that such a small school would go so big for a dance.

“You only get one senior prom, why not make it special?” she leaned in, “Not to mention next year’s spring musical is _The King and I_ , and it wouldn’t hurt to have a few set pieces already made.” She patted my hand and I felt some of my nerves ease.

“Now,” she started, standing up. “I have a team that could use an extra set of hands, you’ll be good to jump right in.” I stood and followed her, passing students seated amidst sheets of drafting paper and books. She stopped between two large shelves full of paints and inks that acted as a room divider. I thanked Leslie and started in. A large roll of tulle on the top shelf had unraveled, creating a gossamer partition between the shelves. I stepped past her and into another world.

Flowers covered every surface, spilling off tables and carpeting the floor. Sprigs of fern and eucalyptus were piled under a large work table. I saw amaryllis and violets and peonies and many more I didn’t know the names of. I was shocked by the variety of flowers. You couldn’t just get these at the grocery store.

I didn’t see her at first for all the flowers. A large painted vase sat at the edge of the table, filled with baby’s breath and lilac and lilies and flowers I’d never seen before. A graceful hand moved deftly across the table, selecting flowers of varying lengths and expertly arranging them within the vase. A thin gold chain hung delicately from her wrist and caught the light.

“Wow,” I breathed, overwhelmed by the lush view. “This is… wow.” I didn’t know where to step, the floor was dense with color. Ribbons were piled on top of a stool near where I stood, opposite from where she sat. Transfixed, I gently moved them to an open spot on the table and sat, watching as she continued to work. Overcast light filtered in from the other side of the room, and I could finally see Rosalie from behind the bouquet.

Closer to her now than I’d been in the lunchroom, it was like seeing her for the first time. Her skin glowed like a pearl, rosy and cool. Freckles danced up her arms and over her dewy cheeks, her dark amber eyes darting over her work. I felt like I was in a painting, the way she looked so at home surrounded by countless flowers. The orange flowers on the table brought out a deep auburn I hadn’t noticed in her hair, the cool tones under her brow highlighted by the lilac she held. What could I say? I wanted to live in this moment forever.

I was interrupted by my own memories of how idiotic I’d been not even an hour ago. I began twisting a ribbon I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, rolling it between my fingers. Now that I was actually here, alone with her, I didn’t know what to say. I flattened the ribbon against my thigh and took a breath to ground myself.

“Hey!” _Oh god, too loud._ “Hey, I just wanted to apologize for being weird earlier, in the lunchroom?” I paused. If she heard me she made no indication. “I totally didn’t mean to stare, you look like someone I knew in Phoenix and I got in my head.” _Why am I lying? I’ve never met someone so radiant, so effortlessly cool. There’s no one like her._

“Sorry, what I mean is that it was rude to stare and I’m sorry, and I wanted to actually introduce myself.” I caught my breath and waited.

She put the flower she was holding down and turned to face me. She sat with perfect posture, elbows floating near her waist, her wrists gently resting on the table. I watched as she looked at me, _really_ looking at me, folding her hands on her lap with an air of finality.

“You were introducing yourself.” Her voice was deeper than I thought it would be. It was like oak, like deep river stones, like a house settling in against a storm.

“I’m Bella Swan.”

She nodded, if only slightly.

“Your dad’s the forest ranger.”

“Yeah-”

“And you’re here to — what, help?”

“Um, I mean I’m here cause my mom moved to Florida, but I guess in this class, yes?” I gestured to the table and the flowers spread across it “I mean you look like you know what you’re doing for sure —“

“I do.”

“Right! No totally, I couldn’t even keep a cactus alive, let alone all these.” I continued, gesturing around us.

“The prom is next semester, Bella. These aren’t real flowers.” She narrowed her eyes at me. I looked down at a rose near me and saw the fine fabric edge to the petals, the subtle seam of the plastic stem. It occurred to me that the room only smelled of paper and clay.

“Oh! Oh.” _Oh my god_. I had been so focused on her I’d completely lost all other senses. A train could’ve plowed through the wall and I probably would’ve missed that too. She returned to her work, breezing past my internal crisis.

The rest of the period passed in silence. I was familiar, of course, with _Pride and Prejudice._ We had watched through the miniseries in my sophomore English class, though I hadn’t revisited it since. I pulled out my laptop and placed it next to my pile of ribbons, flipping through old folders to find my notes from that unit. Rosalie had found something to do across the room from me, making a show of her distance. However much a fool I was around her, I hoped my knowledge of classic literature could save some face.

I was deep into an article on the cultural context of early nineteenth-century Europe when the bell rang; I hadn’t realized it was the end of the day already. I stood, packing my laptop back into my bag, and noticed I was alone in the room. Pulling my backpack up onto my shoulder, I began to make my way to the other side of the class. I pushed past the sheet of tulle, pausing when I heard hushed voices around the bookcase.

“There must be another group that needs her.”

“I assigned her to your group so you wouldn’t have to do all this work by yourself-”

I looked up, already knowing who was on the other side. Leslie stood with her back to me, a furious looking Rosalie standing opposite her.

“She doesn’t know anything, I work better by myself.”

“Then show her, Rosalie. This is an opportunity for you to share your knowledge, to build your leadership skills.”

Leslie turned and started towards her desk, revealing me. Rosalie’s eyes burned with hate as she saw me. I felt something inside me whither, scalded with the loathing that radiated off her. She whipped around and stormed out of the class, leaving me stranded and upset. Confusion overtook any embarrassment I had felt earlier, turning to agitation. I hadn’t done anything to deserve this contempt

I fumed as I navigated the busy halls, wired and restless to get to my car. Jessica and Angela stopped me by my locker to get my phone number, which I gave in a daze. I drove home in silence, concentrating on the hum of the engine.

Neither Charlie nor I had had time to go to the grocery store yet, so we went out for dinner. It was a small diner, open late and known for its baked goods. A few of Charlie’s friends were there and stopped by the table to say hello and ask how I was liking Forks so far. _Good, tired, yes I like my classes, no I don’t know where I’m going to college yet, it’s good to see you too._

Charlie could tell I was exhausted, socially and physically, and didn’t ask questions when I went to bed early. When I got out of the shower, I had texts from Angela, Jessica, and a few unknown numbers, probably Erik and Mike, about the trip to LaPush tomorrow. I sent a quick confirmation and shut my phone off for the night.

Despite how tired I was, I was grateful to their group for including me in their plans. No matter how weird today was, I had met some nice people and was excited to spend some time with them. My interactions with Rosalie still puzzled me, but I decided to ignore her and whatever pull I had towards her. She obviously didn’t want to be friends, which was fine by me.


	5. *Update*

Hello!

It’s been awhile. How are you? So much has happened since the last time we were here together. There were fires in my state, I quit a job, then got a job where I started working eleven hour days. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten this little journey of ours.

I want to start this with a thank you. For everyone who has read and shared and commented on this, thank you. Thank you! I can’t express how moved I am to see how much love this has already gotten, and that’s why I’m dipping back in. I have been where you are, dear reader, refreshing and waiting and hoping for an update. It’s excruciating! 

The rest of this story has been sitting in various, small pieces since I started it way forever ago in early quarantine. Since then, I’ve been reading and watching movies and making bad art and good art and all the while thinking about Blue Hour and where she was going. To my credit -and to my fault- I won’t share something if I’m not completely proud of it. I realized I wasn’t happy with the scope I had set for this story, for these characters. They deserved more, they deserved better! As do you, reader.

I am still writing Blue Hour. It will resemble Twilight, but in the way my cat kind of resembles Jake Gyllenhaal. I have a middle and an end to this story that I can’t wait to share with you! Y’all. Y’ALL. You’re going to love it. The hard part now is tying it neatly up with what we already have and love. Stay tuned and stay wonderful, and thank you again.

Xx


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